The Hunt
by invisame
Summary: One shot of Sam and Dean getting some help on a hunt and things not going quite according to plan. I own nothing but my own characters.


I crept down the dark hallway, my back against the wall. My gun loaded with silver ammunition was in my hand. Every few steps I would pause to listen for any sounds coming from elsewhere in the house. Somewhere in this dilapidated building there was a werewolf and I was hunting it.

Also somewhere within the building, were Sam and Dean Winchester. The brothers had been hunting their entire lives and normally didn't like to ask for help. This was their third time going after this particular wolf however as it had managed to evade them the first two times. When they tracked it here to my backyard, they called me up and asked me to lend a hand.

I'd agreed quickly. Lord knows they'd helped me enough times over the years and I wasn't afraid to ask for it. But then again, I'd been hunting on my own since my old man got taken down by a nest of vampires almost ten years ago. I didn't have built in backup like the brothers did. And rumor had it, they had an angel at their beck and call.

A rustle of sound came from the room just ahead and to the right. I dropped to my knee as I turned into the room, my weapon ready. I lowered the gun and got to my feet as I saw Dean looking back at me with his intense hazel green eyes. "Hey, Harley. Find anything?"

I shook my head. "Found a deer with no heart in one of the rooms. It was still warm but no sign of the wolf."

"Shit." He raked a hand through his hair. "We saw it come in here. Where the hell did it go?" His gaze shifted to me again. "You seen Sammy?"

Before I could answer, the man in question came flying backward through the door landing painfully on the floor. I grimaced in sympathy as I drew my gun. A large man strode into the room, nasty looking claws extended on his hands. Shit, this was no regular werewolf. Even as I had the thought, I lifted my weapon to fire. It swung one large arm to the side making the shot go wide as the gun flew from my grasp. I stumbled to the side.

The brothers preferred knives to guns and they both had them drawn and ready. The wolf backhanded Dean across the face and continued to advance on Sam who was having trouble getting to his feet. My eyes darted around the room looking for my gun, but I couldn't find it. Damn wolf.

Dean was recovering from the blow and moving closer to the wolf. The werewolf pulled its arm back ready to swing at Sam. The younger brother lifted his arms trying to block the blow he knew was coming. Without thinking too much about what I was doing, I shoved into the wolf with my shoulder, twisting as I did so. My back was turned to the beast as he completed his swing. White hot pain seared through my body as I took the blow meant for Sam.

The elder Winchester drove his large silver knife into the wolf's heart. As the werewolf crumpled to the floor with a whimpered sound, I staggered a few steps. Coming to a stop, I stayed bent forward, hands braced on my knees as I breathed through the pain.

"Yes, we ganked that bastard," Dean laughed and started cleaning his knife. I couldn't help a small smile despite how I was feeling.

Sam's eyes stayed on me as he got up from the floor, undoubtedly finding it much easier to do since there was no longer an angry wolf trying to kill him. "Are you okay, Harley?"

"It's just a flesh wound, Sammy." I gave him a small smile but it may have been more like a grimace.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and stepped over to me. "Yeah. The last guy that said that didn't have any limbs left." He moved behind me and poked around at my back. Finally, he sighed. "I can't see anything with this jacket on. There's a lot of blood though."

Dean frowned and came over to examine me as well. I wondered briefly if I should let them know I was getting light-headed but decided against it. Dean put his hand on my shoulder and helped me straighten up. "Let's get this jacket off."

I hissed in a breath as they stripped the garment from me.

"Shit," Sam said and I resisted the urge to try to look over my shoulder.

"That good, huh?"

The younger brother came around where I could see him. He exchanged a look with Dean. "These wounds are really deep, Harley. We need to get you some medical treatment."

I arched a brow. "And how are you going to explain the claw marks, Sam?"

The brothers started discussing the best course of action as I just stood there listening, in no shape to contribute to the conversation. Their voices started to fade out and the edges of my vision blurred. "Guys," I said trying to get their attention but even I could barely hear myself.

"Guys," I said again, louder this time. I rocked forward on my feet and reached out a hand to grab at Sam since I was falling in his direction.

"Harley?" I heard him yell. His arms wrapped around me keeping me from crashing to floor as everything went black.

* * *

As consciousness returned, I opened my eyes cautiously prepared to be swamped with pain. Instead, I felt better than I had in a long time. Not only was there no pain, there was no lingering sickness from being drugged. What the hell happened? Was I dead.?

I glanced around the room and decided it was unlikely I was dead unless my version of hell was to live in the boys' bunker. I didn't stay here often, but enough to recognize it. How the hell had I even gotten here?

Pushing myself into a sitting position I was once again astounded by the lack of any sort of discomfort.

"Oh good, you're up," Sam said as he walked into the room with a glass of water in his hand. A wide smile covered his face.

"Explain please."

He put the water on the nightstand and sat next to me on the bed, taking my hand in his. My cheeks heated. I'd always had a bit of a crush on the younger Winchester if I was honest. I kept my eyes locked on our entwined fingers rather than looking up at him.

"The wound was pretty bad. I knew it as soon as I saw it, but you were so stoic about the whole thing I thought maybe my panic was making it seem worse than it was." Irritation wove through his words.

"Not so much, huh?" I let out a humorless chuckle.

"Yeah. Not so much. When you passed out, it became apparent things were more pressing than I'd thought." I glanced at him out the corner of my eye and watched him rake a hand through his long hair. "Anyway, Dean and I got our friend Cas to come heal you. He transported you and me back to the bunker. Sam's driving back. He'll be here sometime tomorrow."

I looked at him then, blinking in astonishment. "Cas?"

Sam's cheeks flared red. "He's an angel."

"Oh," I said with a nod of my head.

He turned to me then, a smirk on his face. "Oh? That's all you've got?"

I shrugged. "Yeah. Pretty much."

"That blow was meant for me," Sam said after a moment, his voice quiet.

There was nothing to say to that. We both knew it was true.

"Why did you do that?" he finally asked.

My eyes darted down to the floor. "I couldn't let you get hurt, Sam. Not when I could stop it."

He placed his free hand under my chin and lifted my head so I was looking at him again. "Well, seeing you like that today scared the shit out of me. Let's not do that again, okay?"

"Okay," I whispered.

His eyes studied me for a moment before darting down to my lips and back to my eyes. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine, giving me time to protest. I placed my hands on either side of his head and pulled him closer as I tangled my fingers in his hair. He groaned and leaned toward me. The motion made me lean back until I was flat on the bed. Sam's lips never left mine.

He pulled away for a moment. "Do you want to stop?"

"Oh, hell no." I pulled him back to my lips and felt him smile. Next time, it was me that pulled back but just enough that I could talk. "When did you say Dean would be back?"

He just grinned and kissed me again.


End file.
